


No Strings

by kickcows



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Facials, M/M, PWP, Sex Toys, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5885737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo answers an ad on Craigslist, and becomes addicted to something he knows he shouldn't be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following prompt - “Bend over the windowsill so I can fuck you and you can look outside and smile at the neighbors.”

* * *

 

Auburn eyes shift back and forth nervously, the poorly lit hallway occupied by only one person. Himself. His hand hovers below the number ‘15’ on the door, apprehension slowly making its way through his mind. It’s almost the moment, this moment when he knows he doesn’t have to knock, he can just turn around and head back out to his car parked four blocks away, his walk of shame long to punish himself. But he can’t, because he is addicted to what lies behind the door, and his veins are screaming to him that they need their fix, that it’s been far too long since their last dance together. Lowering his head, he looks down at his dress shoes, grey slacks clinging to his legs, his green tie hanging loosely off of his neck. What a sight for sore eyes, he thinks to himself, fingers still hovering below the number. That _need_  kicks in when he can smell something waft under the door, his knuckles knocking on the door before his brain has realized what his hand has done.

“Why, Kurosaki-san~. I did not expect to see you so soon.” An older gentleman, pale blonde bangs split over the bridge of his nose, storm-colored eyes staring at him opens the door for him. “Weren’t you just here a couple days ago? I thought we agreed to once a week.”

He holds the man’s gaze for a few brief seconds, before looking back down at the patent leather of his shoes. “May I come in, Urahara-san?”

“Please, do.” Urahara steps to the side, allowing Ichigo to enter the apartment. “May I take your coat?”

Shrugging it off his shoulders, he hands it to him. “You know why I’m here?” Their fingers touch for a split second, and it’s all that Ichigo needs, the lower half of his body already responding to the minimal touch.

“Late lunch?” The older man teases him.  

Licking his lips, Ichigo wastes no time, and gets down on his knees, hands going to the obi tied around Urahara’s hips. “You could say that.” He reaches into the man’s green pants, and pulls out the one thing he had been thinking about nonstop since his last visit. His lips quickly wrap around the tip, groaning low as he tastes the saltiness stuck to the underside of the man’s cock.

“Mmmm….I had no idea you needed it that badly, Kurosaki-san.” Urahara’s hands push through short orange locks, nails dragging against his scalp. Ichigo moans low, looking up at the man with half-lidded eyes, rubbing his tongue along his length, spit leaving the corner of his mouth. “Such a good boy you are, hmm?” Urahara moans low, rolling his hips gently.

Ichigo closes his eyes, sucking hard on the man’s girth, just as he had been taught to do the first time they had engaged in this sexual dance. He had responded to an ad on Craigslist, a man looking for some fun with no strings attached - just exactly the sort of thing that Ichigo had been wanting. And now, here they are, still doing these things to one another, but there is no label between them. No, just a simple understanding that each can give the other what they crave, what they ache for. And right now, Ichigo is aching to feel that thick cock shoved down his throat, so he can choke on it, and wants to taste the viscid liquid that’s unique to Urahara.

As if reading his mind, Urahara thrusts his hips forward roughly, the tip of his cock striking the back of his throat, making him gag. He groans, quickly readjusting his throat to accommodate the flushed head into his throat. The fingers in his hair pull rough, making Ichigo’s eyes water, as he sucks hard, bobbing his head slow.

“That’s it, Ichigo…Take it all in…” Urahara speaks low, the rumble of his voice going straight to Ichigo’s cock. “Suck it  _harder_.”

Doing as he’s told, he sucks hard, the older man now controlling his movements. Ichigo submits to him completely, for he loves having the power taken from him. That’s one of the reasons why he’s so addicted to visiting Urahara. This man gives him the treatment he’s been yearning for most of his adult life, but everyone expects _him_  to be the one in charge. Not with Urahara. Oh, no. This man made it very clear in the beginning what they were to be for each other, and Ichigo readily agreed to it.

He pulls back, and starts to rub his lips against the tip, coating them with the pre-cum that’s been steadily dripping down his throat. Urahara pulls away from him, painting his cheeks with the tip of his cock, a mixture of spit and cum sticking to his skin, the heady smell causing Ichigo to salivate. Keeping his tongue out, he waits for the man to put it back where it belongs, but it never returns.

“Take off your clothes, Kurosaki.” Back to impersonal names. “Take them off, and go into the bedroom. You know where.”

Trying not to act too excited, Ichigo stands up from the floor and heads towards the bedroom. His fingers fly, quickly getting undressed. The curtains are pulled all the way to the side, revealing two apartment buildings across the way, as well as an office building with many windows. He places his hands on the edge of the windowsill, eyes staring forward. He hears Urahara enter the room, can see his reflection heading towards him.

“Open your mouth,” Urahara leans over his back, speaking directly into his ear. Ichigo’s jaw drops open, his silk green tie going between his lips. “Much better.” Urahara chuckles low in his ear, pulling the knot tight. “Did you prep yourself before coming here?” He nods his head rapidly, the tie staying in place. “You _are_  a good boy, aren’t you, Ichigo?” Lips tickle the shell of his ear, Ichigo’s eyes closing as a low muffled moan emits from his throat. “You like to please me, don’t you?” 

Ichigo nods his head, keeping himself perfectly still. He wants to push his body back, wants to feel that thick cock against his twitching hole, but knows that if he’s patient, the older man will reward him justly. It’s part of the ‘give and take’ between the two of them. He gives himself completely to Urahara, who in turn will take everything from him, which Ichigo is quite alright with. He’s taking a ‘late’ lunch from work to get thoroughly fucked by this man who seems to be able to do what no one else has ever been able to do.

He makes Ichigo feel needed.

Hands cover his own, as he feels the wetness of the tip of Urahara’s cock tease his entrance. “Bend over the windowsill so I can fuck you, and you can look outside and smile at the neighbors.”

He arches his chest, pushing himself to almost lean out the window. He grips on the outer edge of the windowsill, a muffled cry falling from his lips as Urahara pushes into him quickly. He looks across the way, and can see people moving about in their offices, no one paying them any attention. He salivates, anxiously hoping that _someone_  will see what they’re doing, the thought alone making his dick throb hard.

Urahara rolls his hips, his cock driving deeper and deeper into Ichigo’s body, making him cling to the windowsill, knuckles turning white with how tight he’s gripping it. “P-Please…” He tries to say, but with the fabric of his tie, all it does it come out as a muffled plea.

“Don’t be shy, Ichigo…Let’s hear how good my cock is making you feel, hmm?” Urahara thrusts hard, skin slapping against skin, as he drives hard into Ichigo’s body. He tosses his head back, moaning loud, tongue trying to push the silk tie out, wanting the man to hear in his voice how bad he needs him, needs all of this. “Ah, looks like someone’s caught us~”

His head snaps up, and he sees a man standing a few floors above them in the office building. His forehead is pressed against the glass window, his hand palming himself. Ichigo moans low, staring at the man across the way as he pushes his hips back, Urahara gripping his hips tight. He reaches between his legs and wraps his hand around his cock, squeezing the base to not let himself come too quickly.

“Keep it there until I tell you to let go. If you do that, I will reward you with something very nice, Kurosaki~.”

Eyes are glued to the man in the building, who is now jerking off to their actions. It’s making him want to come so bad, his fingers tightening harder around his shaft. Each thrust of Urahara’s cock inside of him is striking his prostate, making the noises from his mouth become higher pitched as he is taken for the ride he had so been aching for since knocking on the door. _This_  is why he keeps crawling back to this apartment, thirsty for more touches from this man, who makes him feel completely alive with their perverted acts.

“Release it, Ichigo…” His barely audible words pierce his eardrum, Ichigo practically coming from just the command alone. He removes his hand, and starts to come hard, the opaque liquid flying up towards the window, some landing on his chest as he keeps rolling his hips through the intensity of his orgasm, knees about to give out.

Urahara pulls out of him at the last moment, his knees hitting the floor as he turns his head. The tie is quickly removed from his face, his eyes locked onto Urahara’s cock, long fingers stroking himself off. He sticks out his tongue, moaning loud as the man’s spunk starts to land on his tongue and face, the warm liquid on his taste buds making his spent cock start to grow a little. He doesn’t close his mouth until he’s told to do so in a breathless voice, swallowing the delectable sweetness down his throat, letting it coat his mouth first before making it disappear.

Hands pull him up, lips touching his own, Urahara’s tongue slipping into his mouth. He moans low, giving some of the older man a taste of his own juices, their tongues stroking each other with a rushed fervor. Ichigo knows the time is ticking, that he needs to head back to work, but the idea of continuing their sexual escapades for another session has him seriously thinking about calling his boss.

Their kiss ends, Ichigo panting hard, as the curtain is pulled closed, the room now in almost complete darkness. “Going back to work now, Kurosaki-san~?” Urahara sits on the edge of his bed. “Or, can I tempt you to stay a little bit longer?”

“We both know I can’t stay.” He picks up his slacks, and pulls his phone out. He quickly types a text to his boss, letting him know that he’s not feeling all that great, and that he’ll make up the hours tomorrow. He returns the phone to his pocket after receiving an ‘OK’ from his boss, and sets his pants back on the ground. “Where are your handcuffs?”

“I thought you had to leave.” The low chuckle that leaves Urahara’s mouth makes Ichigo glad he made the appropriate call. “You know what to do if you want them, Kurosaki.”

Moving to lay on the bed, Ichigo raises his hands above his head, crossing his wrists. Urahara grabs the handcuffs from under the bed, and traps Ichigo against his headboard. “Do your worst, Kisuke.” His lip curls up in a smirk, face still sticky with the man’s come on his face.

Urahara kneels on his chest, pushing the tip of his stiffening arousal against his lips. “Open your mouth, and say ‘ah’.”

“Aaahh….” He moans low, lips closing around the flushed head a second time.

He does not go home until after midnight that night, thoroughly satisfied by the older man. That is, until two days later, when he’s back at his door, that hesitation returning, but quickly disappearing as he remembers just why he’s standing there. That insatiable need to let himself go with the only man that he can submit himself to, Urahara Kisuke.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Did you wear the plug to keep yourself loose for me?”

* * *

Sounds of people answering phones, fingers striking keyboards as reports are typed, coworkers talking quietly to one another fill the soundspace of Ichigo’s work office. He can hear four different conversations happening right at this moment - one on the other side of his cubicle, where his coworker is attempting to save a sale; two people carrying on a conversation a few feet away from him on how to meet the goals for the end of the month; his boss lecturing another one of his coworkers five cubicles over (the man has no volume control); and finally, three others discussing last night’s football game. But he hears none of it. No, he’s too busy thinking about something he’s brought into work with him, hoping that none of his coworkers suspect that something is going on. His eyes dart back and forth between his monitor and his desk drawer, where that certain something is hidden away.

His desk phone rings, startling him out of his daze. “Kurosaki.” He answers, keeping his voice light and approachable, as he’s been taught by his superiors. “ _There’s no need for pleasantries. They’re calling us. Not us calling them. Just state your name, and be done with it._ ”

“Hello, Kurosaki-san~.”

He almost drops his phone, hand becoming slick with perspiration as his mind registers just who is on the other end of the call. His eyes dart back to his drawer, glued there. “Y-You’re calling me at work now?”

“Is that a problem?” Urahara Kisuke keeps speaking with a soft lilt, the sound making all the blood that had first rushed to his cheeks quickly make its way towards his groin. “You seem to enjoy showing up at my place unexpected, so I thought it would be only fair~.”

“How did you get this number?” He opens the drawer, and stares at the bag that’s taunting him. His fingers touch it, as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.

A low chuckle pierces his ear, making him bite down harder on his lip to prevent himself from making a fool of himself at his desk. “We both know that you like to pass out after our-”

“Don’t. They record these calls.” He rushes out, hoping that the man will oblige him.

“Yes, well. I was calling to find out if you’ve done it yet.” Urahara drops the subject, allowing Ichigo to breathe easier for all of two seconds, before his heartrate is spiking once more. “Tell me you have, Kurosaki.”

He grips the bag. “N-Not yet.”

“You’d better do it soon, otherwise I will not be very happy. And you know what that means.”

Breathing deeply, Ichigo closes his eyes to focus on the man’s voice. “I know. I’ll go take care of it right now. It’s here. I didn’t forget.” He can feel the skin on his backside begin to prickle, memories returning of the last time he had been punished by Urahara.

“Very good. Is your lunch break still at 1:30?”

“I’m going to be late today,” he whispers, knowing that this will not make the man on the other end of the line happy. “But,” he quickly follows up, “I’ll be leaving the office at 3:30, and won’t have to return until the morning.”

There’s dead silence on the other end of the line. He’s about to ask if he’s still there, but then feels relief flood through him when Urahara speaks. “Then, I will see you soon.” The line goes dead, Ichigo staring at his screensaver, the telephone still pressed against his ear. After a few moments, he realizes that Urahara has hung up, placing the phone back on the cradle.

Grabbing the small bag, he shoves it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and stands up. He looks over at his coworker, who is typing away on his keyboard. He’s about to tell him that he’s stepping away from his desk, then decides against it because what business is it of his? He pushes his chair back under his desk, and heads to the men’s bathroom.

He locks the door on the furthest stall from the door, and pulls the bag out of his jacket. Unzipping it with one hand, while the other unzips his slacks, he pulls out a medium sized butt plug, along with a bottle of lube. He waits for someone to flush, before pouring some of the liquid onto the plug. Once it’s good and coated, he pulls his boxers down, and bends at the waist, bracing his left hand against the wall. With his right hand, he pushes the tip of the plug against his entrance, spreading his legs apart so that it could go into him with ease.

Ichigo chokes back a groan, knowing that if he were to make any sort of noise, it would be a violation of conduct, and could cost him his job. That thought alone makes his cock start to grow hard, as he pushes the plug all the way into him, leaving the handle resting against both of his buttcheeks. He stands up, pulling his boxers and pants back up onto his hips. He tries to move, and feels the tip of the plug resting comfortably inside of him. He exhales, thankful that he didn’t place it against his prostate by mistake. He wipes his hand off with some toilet paper, then flushes it down the toilet.

After washing his hands, he walks back to his desk, and sits down gingerly, hoping that it will stay in the same spot. It does. Another deep breath has him feeling a little jittery. He reaches for his cell phone, and pulls up his contact for Urahara. “ _It’s done. See you soon_.” He closes his phone, and focuses his attention back on his work. As much as he can, that is, for instead of looking at the drawer, his eyes keep looking at the clock at the bottom of his computer screen. Each minute that ticks by seems to last longer than sixty seconds, but he knows that isn’t possible. When the numbers switch, he feels little sense of relief.

Only three more hours until he can leave for the day.

***

He steps out into the sunshine, hand coming up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. Walking towards the metro, which is only a few meters away from his office building, he keeps his hand over his eyes. He bumps into a man wearing a green and white striped hat, who happens to walk right in front of him.

“Apologies, old man.” He says, keeping his head down as he heads towards the stairs that lead down to the subway.

“In a rush?” The man he’s just bumped into asks him.

That voice. He stops moving, hand dropping as he turns towards the person who is looking at him with a knowing smirk on their face. “W-What….What are you doing here?” Ichigo asks, hand going to the tie that’s around his neck, loosening the knot around his throat.

“You’re not the only one that has patiency issues, Kurosaki.” Urahara’s grey eyes shine in the direct sunlight. “My car is just around the corner.” He points towards a black town car with tinted windows. “I think it might be quicker if you come with me.”

Ichigo doesn’t know what to say, and instead allows the older man to lead him towards his car. Urahara opens the backseat door, which he leans down to get into the nice sedan. Black leather seats are cool to touch, a vast contrast to the heat outside. He starts to reach for the door, and sees Urahara climbing in after him.

Urahara taps on the black partition that separates the back of the town car from the front. “You can leave now.”

“Where are we going?” Ichigo asks, his voice returning after they’ve driven a few blocks. “Your place?”

“Very good, Kurosaki.” Urahara takes off his hat, running his fingers through his pale blonde hair. “Are you surprised?”

He just stares at him, unable to process what is happening right now. “How am I going to get home?”

“I’ll get it taken care of.” He pats Ichigo’s leg, the warmth of his hand burning through the thin material of his slacks. “What’s the matter?”

“I have no idea what’s going on.” Ichigo admits, sitting rigidly. He doesn’t want to move, because he knows that if he does, then Urahara will know that the plug is still in him. He had planned on removing it when he got home, but since that’s no longer an option, he isn’t sure how he’s going to take care of it.

A soft laugh leaves the older man’s mouth. “I told you, I’m just as impatient as you are. Since I hung up the phone with you, all I’ve wanted was for you to be near me. So, rather than wait for you to show up at my place, I decided to come to you.”

“How do you know where I work?” Ichigo asks, as the car goes underground.

“It’s easy to trace phone numbers, Kurosaki.” The car rolls to a stop, the doors unlocking automatically. “Come along. We’ve got some business to address behind closed doors.” Urahara opens the door, and steps out, keeping it open for him.

Ichigo feels like he’s having an out of body experience. This man, this man isn’t supposed to know this much about him. To know where he works, his work telephone number - it’s all too much. He follows him blindly, stepping into the elevator with him. Without realizing it, he’s secured to Urahara’s body, the older man’s arm resting around his waist, keeping him close to his side. He doesn’t fight it - and instead leans into the touch. He rests his head on Urahara’s shoulder, and allows himself to finally relax, as he inhales deeply. That rich scent of his, a smell that Ichigo clings to whenever he leaves this man’s world, and heads back into his own.

“There we go,” Urahara murmurs low, giving his stomach a little squeeze. “Now are you comfortable, Ichigo?”

“I will be, once we get to your apartment.” His nose presses against Urahara’s lower neck, inhaling his musky scent. His lips start to kiss the hollow of his throat, Urahara leaning his head a little to the side.

“Careful, Kurosaki.” Urahara pulls his midsection, taking Ichigo away from his side. The elevator dings, opening on the man’s floor.

He trails behind him, that nervous feeling he tends to get whenever he walks down this hallway all but gone, since he’s already with the man. There’s no going back now - he has no way to get home. He’s trapped here, and there’s a small part of him that’s trying to fight this reality, but the larger part is more excited than anything else. He waits for Urahara to open the door, then walks inside, the familiar smell of his apartment making him feel instantly calm.

Urahara steps behind him, after closing the door, hands settling on his waist. “So, Kurosaki….How about we get those clothes off of your body, hmm?”

Stripping off his tie, Ichigo’s fingers work quickly as he unbuttons his shirt. His undershirt gets ripped over his head, biceps flexing as he lowers his arms back down. His hands go to his slacks last, fingers hesitating briefly before he pulls both his pants and underwear down. He knows there’s no hiding from the man that’s standing right behind him. Cool hands touch his waist, Urahara encouraging him to bend over, which he does so obediently.

He places his hands around his ankles, as he feels those cool fingertips touching the item that’s still inside of him. “Did you wear the plug to keep yourself loose for me?” Urahara’s voice is low, carrying a tone to it that makes Ichigo’s toes curl into the plush carpet.

“Y-You told me to.” He reminds him, as the toy is twisted a little, making him cry out. “A-Ah…” He grips his ankles tighter, standing perfectly still to allow this man to do what he wants to his body. “I sent you that text.”

“Yes, but I would have thought you would have taken it out by now,” Urahara twists it a little more, making Ichigo’s entire body become flushed. “I’m proud of you, Ichigo. You’ve been a very, _very_  good boy.”

Closing his eyes, he utters the words he knows he should be ashamed of saying, but he can’t quite find it in himself to care. “May I have a reward?”

“You may.” Urahara agrees, voice thick with the same want that’s coiling inside of Ichigo’s belly. “You may choose your reward.”

“May I touch you?” Ichigo asks, keeping himself in his position. “May I touch you with my hands?”

He’s pulled upright, blooding beginning to rush into his brain. “Yes, you may.”

His hand goes to Urahara’s slacks, for the man is dressed in a suit - no doubt to blend into the environment of where he met Ichigo. He presses his palm against Urahara’s groin, and moans low in appreciation. That thickness he can feel beneath the thin material of his slacks feels divine, and knows that the humiliation he felt before is worth this reward. He will gladly keep a plug shoved up into his tight cavity to be allowed to squeeze this man’s cock with his own hand.

“Kiss it, Ichigo. I know you want to.” Urahara’s breath comes out hitched. “You do love sucking on my cock.”

Dropping to his knees, Ichigo yanks the man’s pants off, his mouth honing onto the tip of Urahara’s cock without having to see it. He’s not ashamed that this man has figured out just how much he enjoys sucking on his thick flesh. How plump it is, how _thick_  it grows against his tongue as he pulls him into his mouth more. It’s what keeps Ichigo coming back here, more and more. Some men become addicted to drugs. He’s addicted to this man’s sex. And _damn_ , is it _good_.

“E-Enough, Ichigo.” Fingers tug roughly on his hair, as he’s pulled away from Urahara’s girth. “Take the plug out now.”

He reaches behind himself, and grunts low as he dislodges the plug from his body. He’s about to complain how he doesn’t like to feel this empty, when he’s pulled to the bedroom, and flung onto the bed by Urahara.

“Bend your knees, Ichigo.” Urahara commands him. “Spread yourself open for me.”

Obeying him has become second nature. He hooks his arms underneath his knees, and pulls them up towards his chest. He knows his hole is gapping right now. He can feel it. Urahara pulls him towards the edge of the bed, where he rubs the tip of his cock against his entrance.

“You’re so loose for me, aren’t you?” Ichigo’s eyes close, as he lets the man’s words wash over him. “You want me to put it in you, don’t you, Kurosaki?”

“P-Please.”

Urahara removes his arms, placing them above Ichigo’s head. Hands touch his knees, Urahara spreading him open more, as he pushes the tip of his cock into his entrance. Ichigo looks down, and watches as Urahara pushes himself further into his body, his girth filling him up in such a way that no plug could do so. He leans his head back, and lets out a low moan, unable to stop himself.

“No need to restrain yourself, Kurosaki,” Urahara murmurs low. “No gag today. Be as vocal as you want.”

A loud wail is torn from his throat, as that cock drives deeper into his body, striking his prostate. “A-Ah!”

“Do you like that, Ichigo?” His knees are bent, Urahara’s arms resting on his shins, as he thrusts his cock harder into Ichigo’s tightness. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I l-love it so much,” Ichigo moans, his own cock thick and hard. “Y-You know I love it! I can’t get enough of it!”

“And I can’t get enough of your inner walls fitting just right around me,” Urahara moans low. “Touch yourself, Ichigo. Let me watch you pleasure yourself, as I keep fucking you.”

“F-Fuck me, yes…” Ichigo reaches down, and starts to touch himself with rushed strokes. “God, fuck me, Kisuke. Fuck me _hard_. Fuck me so hard, please. PLEASE!” He screams, as Urahara’s cock starts to strike his prostate with each harsh thrust of his hips. “OH!”

He stares into wild grey eyes, as he starts to come, a silent scream leaving his throat as his body goes numb from head to toe. He sees Urahara bite his lower lip, and barely hears the groans he’s making, as he pumps his hips faster against Ichigo’s body. Only seconds after he’s coming, he feels Urahara’s orgasm start to shoot deep inside of him, the squelching of how his cock rubs his insides music to Ichigo’s ears.

Instead of stopping, Ichigo continues to move his hand on his sensitive organ. Urahara’s panting hard, but doesn’t pull out of Ichigo. Instead, he kneels on the bed, and starts to roll his hips at a slow pace. They stare at each other, as their dance continues, Ichigo’s cock slowly coming back to life, filling up with blood once more. He can feel Urahara growing thicker inside of his body. It’s something he had been taught to do on his third visit to Urahara’s place. No matter what happens after your first orgasm, you keep going. You keep going, until your body reawakens, and thanks you for keeping up its heightened pleasured state.

They move to lay on the bed properly, Urahara pushing deep into Ichigo, keeping one of his knees bent. Ichigo moans low, hands going to Urahara’s shoulders, as he clings to him. “K-Kisuke…” He moans into his ear, and hears him moan low in return, his cock thrusting deeper into his body.

“Ichigo…” Lips press against his ear, hot breath tickling the fine hairs on the shell of his ear, as Urahara breathes deep. “Come again for me…”

“I will…”

Lips connect with a rough kiss, as they start to rock together on the bed. The headboard slams against the wall, as they push against each other. The way their bodies line up, Ichigo’s cock rubs against Urahara’s body, the friction enough to push him over the edge without the aide of his hand. He clings tight to Urahara, as he’s taken again, the older man’s release shooting into him, making his entire body grow hot.

Neither move, as both attempt to regain their breaths. Urahara moves off of him, the rush of his fluids sliding out of Ichigo’s body. He tries to clench, but with the plug being in him for so long, it’s a useless affair. Urahara doesn’t seem to care, and seems more interested in licking the cum off of Ichigo’s stomach and chest. He arches up, fingers tangling in the soft strands of blonde hair, moaning low at how his tongue teases him more.

The rest of the evening passes in a sexual debauchery haze. Ichigo can barely walk to the car that waits to take him home. Looking up, he sees Urahara watching him from the living room window. He gives him a small wave, before getting into the car, leaving the man’s world for another couple of days. Because they both know that he’ll be back, like a moth to a flame.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “Spread your legs and finger yourself. Look me in the eyes so I can see your pleasure.”

* * *

He’s out with some friends from high school when his cell phone buzzes in his pocket. Not used to getting texts on a regular basis, Ichigo reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. It’s a picture message from an unregistered number. He unlocks it, and opens his messenger app, pulling up the message. As soon as it starts to open, his eyes grow wide, and he quickly turns off the screen, glancing around at his friends, hoping no one saw.

“Are you okay, Kurosaki-kun?” His friend, Orihime Inoue, asks him, her hand reaching over to him.

Fumbling a little, he stands up from the table. “I’m fine. I just need to go use the bathroom. Chado - order the black and bleu burger for me with fries?”

“Got it.”

Ichigo heads to the bathroom, feeling his heart racing as he goes into one of the unoccupied stalls. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and unlocks it one more time. His mouth drops open, as he starts to grow a little aroused. He would know who this is without needing a contact number in his phone. There’s a text message attached to the pic. “When are you coming over? Someone misses you.”

His fingers touch the screen, wishing that it wasn’t just a pic of Urahara’s cock, and instead was the real thing. It had been two very long weeks since he’s been able to see him, and this pic alone is proving what a terrible mistake that’s been. Bringing the screen up to his face, he gives it a lick, imagining the taste of Urahara’s skin, rather than the cold tang of glass. He looks down at his pants, now sporting a very noticeable erection. He can’t stay in this stall all night. He doesn’t want to. He’d much rather be with the man that has sent that text to him, but he didn’t drive to the restaurant. _Shit_.

Swiping the picture away with slight hesitation, for he really wasn’t ready to not look at it, he pushes the phone icon to call the number he’d received the text from. Heart beating fast, he holds his breath, wondering if this was against their boundaries. But, he’s pretty sure that this is the first dick pic he’s ever received, and wants to show his gratification for the unexpected gift to its owner. After four rings, a voice comes through the speaker. “Good evening, Kurosaki-san. I trust you received my message?”

“I’m stuck in the bathroom at a restaurant, with a raging hard-on because of it,” he whispers into the mouthpiece. He doesn’t know if he’s alone, and doesn’t feel like announcing to the world what a simple picture has done to his body. “And, I can’t leave where I am because I got a ride with someone!”

A low chuckle in his ear makes his cheeks flush, and his pants grow tighter. “Are you saying you wish to come over, Kurosaki-san? Did my picture entice you that much?”

“I licked my phone screen.” There’s only a little bit of shame, as he tells the man that’s made him some sort of junkie for his cock. There’s more desperation there, though, because he’s trapped with no way to have this thirst quenched.

Urahara’s sonorous moan makes him grip his cock with his free hand. “Tell me where you are, and I’ll send my car to pick you up.”

He rattles off the address to him. “How soon?”

“Ten minutes.”

That can’t be right. He knows where Urahara lives, and it’s nowhere close to where he’s at right now. “But how-?”

“I will see you soon, Kurosaki-san. Oh, and don’t go relieving that itch on your own. I will take care of it for you when you arrive.” The call ends.

Ichigo puts his phone in his pocket, and uses his foot to flush the toilet, even though he has yet to sit down. The swell in his pants is still far too noticeable, and he hopes that within the next five minutes it will go down to just a little bump. Thinking about the girls at his table starts to make him lose that intense desire that he knows he can get back just by looking at his phone. He rolls his shoulders, and leaves the stall, heading to the sink to wash his hands.

Taking a look in the mirror, he sees that it’s barely noticeable. Good. Walking back to their table, he pulls his wallet out, and grabs two thousand dollar yen notes out. He sees everyone talking animatedly, and feels only a tiny bit of guilt for rushing out of there. Clearing his throat, he puts the bills down on the table.

“Something’s come up, so I have to go. It’s been nice chatting with you.” He gives kisses to both girls at the table, and shakes hands with the guys. “Keep me in the loop of the next together.” He gives a wave and leaves, before anyone can stop him.

The black town car is waiting out front, a muscular man with glasses and a large mustache on his face stands next to the back passenger door. “Kurosaki?” He asks, his voice slightly gruff.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He nods, and enters the car, after this man opens the door for him. The door shuts, leaving him alone in the backseat.

Music fills the car, as they pull away from the curb. Ichigo reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his phone. He brings the picture up on his screen, the hard on that had disappeared a little bit ago coming back to life the longer he stares at it. He looks around, and notices that they’re not heading in the direction of Urahara’s apartment. Leaning forward, he taps on the divider, and waits for it to be lowered. “Excuse me? Where are we going?”

“We will be arriving to your destination momentarily, Kurosaki.” The divider goes back up, leaving him to stew in his thoughts alone.

Where is this man taking him? Should he be worried that he got into a car with a complete stranger? No, because he’s been in this car before. He knows that. But, he hadn’t met the driver when Urahara had come to his work to pick him up, so how does he not know that the man driving right now isn’t the same one that drove them before? It had to be. The car rolls to a stop in a suburban neighborhood, quaint family dwellings on either side of the street.

“He is waiting for you.” The driver says, pushing his glasses up on his nose, the partition having gone down as Ichigo takes in his surroundings. “Just follow the path up, and go inside.”

Ichigo exits the car, and heads up the path, just as he’s been instructed to. _This is too much_. He’s out of sorts, wishing that he had been taken back to the apartment building, so he could go through his normal routine. This house, this unexpected house, takes him out of his comfort zone, and it’s making him wish he was still back at the restaurant. But the image of Urahara’s cock on his telephone flits through his mind, and has him placing his hand on the doorknob, twisting it to the left to push the door open.

Walking inside, Ichigo takes a look around. The room looks _normal_. Almost picture perfect. A large couch sits in the middle of what must be the family room, nice art hanging up on the walls. There’s a large television off to the side, so that any seat on the couch has a good view of what’s on the screen. Taking a deep breath, he can smell the aroma that he associates with Urahara, making the minor anxiety he’s feeling fade away to almost nothing.

The man he’s addicted to walks out from what has to be the kitchen, a normal suit and tie on his body. Well, the tie is loose around his neck. Ichigo’s brain stops, as he takes in the man’s appearance, so used to seeing him in those green clothes of his, that seeing something like this is just making his brain give up.

Urahara walks over to him, a smirk on his face. “Good evening, Kurosaki-san. Care for a drink? Or should I just show you where the bedroom is, so we can get down to business?” 

“What the fuck is going on?” He asks, finally finding his voice. “Where the hell am I?”

Pale blonde bangs split down the sides of Urahara’s nose, his grey eyes containing mischief. “You’re in my home.”

“But what about the apartment??”

“That is also my home.” Urahara walks towards him, a smirk on his lips. “I have a few homes, Kurosaki-san.”

“How many?!”

“Four.”

“Holy shit.”

He can feel his knees beginning to buckle. No, this isn’t happening. Urahara is just some perverted man that likes to have the kinkiest kind of sex, which he’s more than open to because he loves how good it makes him feel. This man isn’t supposed to have some life he knows nothing about. But, isn’t that what the ad had said in the first place? Looking for a fuck buddy, with no strings. Maybe the man hid his wealth to not attract the crazies.

Without even realizing it, Ichigo finds himself in a bedroom. He doesn’t remember how he got there, but he’s there now, so what does it matter? Seeing a bed puts things back into perspective for him, levels out the playing field as it were. He looks at Urahara, who is removing the suit jacket off of his upper body.

“Take your phone out, Kurosaki.” It’s a quiet command, and that strange daze he’s been feeling seems to vanish as he does what he’s told. “Let me see the text you received.”

It doesn’t take him long to pull the picture of Urahara’s cock up, as he had left it on the screen before making it go to sleep. He holds the phone up, the beautiful appendage filling his screen. He stares at Urahara, feeling the flush return to his cheeks, as blood begins to move towards the south of his body. “Here it is, Urahara-san.”

“Show me what you did in the bathroom.”

Holding the device up to his face, he licks the screen, eyes closing to hide the sudden bashfulness he’s feeling. If they had been in his apartment, he doesn’t think he’d feel this way. He hears Urahara move towards him, eyes flinching for just a moment when a hand touches his wrist. The phone is pulled away from him, Urahara pushing down on his shoulders. Ichigo obeys the touch, and sinks down to his knees. He feels the wet tip of Urahara’s cock rub against his lips, a muffled moan emitting from his throat at the touch. He does not open his mouth, even though he wants to, because just feeling the bulbous head paint his lips with precum is more than enough.

“Stand up.” The hot heat that had been emitting from Urahara’s cock disappears, as the older man pulls away from him. Ichigo’s eyes open, as he stands back up. “Get undressed, and lay on the bed, Kurosaki-san.”

Ichigo resists the urge to tear the clothes off of his body, His shirt is pulled off his head first, and then his pants and underwear last, now completely naked. His cock juts outward, but the earlier bashfulness doesn’t manifest, as he sees Urahara appreciating his body. He goes over to the bed, and sits down on edge, before swinging his legs over to lay on his back, right in the middle. He sees Urahara take a seat at the end of the bed, Ichigo wondering why the man is staying away from him. _He must have his reasons_. Rather than question, he keeps his eyes on the older man, the butterflies in his stomach slicing his insides as the anticipation begins to grow.

A bottle is presented to him. “Now, then. Spread your legs and finger yourself. Look me in the eyes so I can see your pleasure.”

Taking the bottle, Ichigo’s cheeks burn, but does not refuse the older man’s request. He uncaps the lube, and pours some first on his fingers. Knowing that this man is going to want a show, he lays on his back, drawing his knees up to his chest. He holds the bottle between his legs, and starts to dribble some of the warming liquid onto his twitching hole. Urahara inhales sharply, the sound sending a wave of lust through Ichigo’s body. Recapping the bottle with his hand, he drops it onto the bed, and places his index finger against his entrance.

He rubs the tip of his finger against his hole, teasing himself. Staring into Urahara’s storm-colored eyes, he lets out a needy moan, as he pushes his finger into his body. Urahara stares back at him, his pale skin flushed, mouth set in a firm line. Ichigo pushes his finger further in, spreading his knees apart more to get better leverage. He adds his middle finger, eyes becoming half-lidded as he stretches himself slow. The bed shifts, Urahara now kneeling a few feet away from his ass.

“A-Am I doing good, Kisuke?” He moans, spreading himself open for the man to see. He pumps his fingers in and out, the lube coating his inner walls allowing him to move his fingers faster than he could before.

“You’re doing perfect, Ichigo.” The man’s low timbre causes Ichigo to whimper, as he adds a third finger. “Does it feel good to touch yourself like this for me?”

“Nnngh…yes…” His eyes stay locked onto Urahara’s, but he can hear the older man touching himself, which makes him move his fingers faster. “I-It feels ah-amazing.”

Ichigo crooks his middle finger, rubbing the tip against his bundle of nerves. The noise he makes is almost inhuman. He hears Urahara moan low, and soon feels the warmth of his cock touching his fingers. “Do you wish to come with your fingers, Ichigo? Or would you prefer my cock?”

“C-Cock! Please, Kisuke!” He moans, all three fingers pushing into his body, as he feels the warm weight of Urahara’s balls on the back of his hand.

“Pull them out.”

Yanking his fingers out of his body, he moans loud as he feels Urahara’s cock slip into him with ease. His fingers brush against Urahara’s sac, before coming to rest underneath his kneecap. He holds onto his other leg in a similar fashion, eyes still locked onto Urahara’s, as he feels the man’s cock fill him completely.

“Ichigo,” Urahara leans down towards him, moan low into his ear. “Does my cock feel better than your fingers?”

He closes his eyes, a loud moan tearing from his throat, as Urahara thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deeper into Ichigo’s body. “Y-Yes! Y-You know that I love your cock, Kisuke!”

“Say it again, Ichigo.” Urahara groans low into his ear.  

The harsh thrusts of Urahara’s hips makes him lose the capability to speak, and instead can only moan loud. “Y-Your cock!! It feels so….fucking….good!”

“Good boy, Ichigo.”

The praise makes Ichigo whimper, his hand aching to touch himself. “K-Kisuke, may I…?” He moans, the tip of Urahara’s cock striking him against his bundle of nerves. “OH!”

“Do it.”

Releasing the grip he has on his left knee, his hand still sticky with the lube he’d used on his hole, he grabs onto his cock, and starts to stroke himself off. Urahara’s staring into his eyes again, Ichigo getting lost in the storm as his hand flies fast on his body. He screams loud, his orgasm ripping through his body, semen coating his hand to make it glide faster over it. He sees the pleased look on Urahara’s face, and soon those eyes are hidden away from him, as Urahara pumps his hips faster. After a few moments, he thrusts hard one last time, shooting his load deep into Ichigo’s body. All Ichigo can do is moan, that wonderful feeling of being so full again makes his body feel lighter than air.

His hand starts to pump his cock, Urahara’s training still holding even after the lack of sex for the past two weeks. He can feel Urahara’s cock growing hard within him, the two men staring at one another, as they start to roll their hips slow. Urahara leans down, and starts to kiss him softly, Ichigo opening his mouth wide to feel Urahara’s tongue on his. Their second session lasts longer than the first, Ichigo loving every second of it. When they both come a second time, he almost passes out, the intensity of such powerful orgasms back to back unfamiliar to him.

Urahara pulls out of him, and lays next to him on the bed. “Shall I have Tessai take you back home, Kurosaki-san?”

“Is that your driver’s name?” He asks, still trying to calm himself down.

“It is.” Urahara nods. “If you wish to go now, just say the word.”

Turning over, he looks into Urahara’s eyes. “And if I don’t?”

“Then we both share the same sentiment.”

Ichigo remains quiet for a few moments, but doesn’t shy away from the older man’s gaze. “So, four houses, huh? You must be loaded, Urahara-san.”

“Money is neither here nor there.” There’s a playful smile on Urahara’s lips. “I’m just a humble shopkeeper that knows how to manage his wealth.”

“Is that why you just wanted someone for a quick fuck?”

Grey eyes twinkle in the limited light. “That would be correct.”

“So, why am I still around?”

Urahara’s voice drops low. “Because, there is still so much for us to explore together.”

“I’m up for that.” Ichigo can feel his heart beginning to beat hard in his chest.

“It would be a pity if you weren’t,” Urahara places his hand on his waist, and pulls him to lay on top of him. “Now then, Kurosaki-san, since you’re not going home any time soon, and you’ve depraved me of being able to enjoy your wonderful body, how about we cut this chit-chat, and continue on to more…. Important things~.”

Sliding his knees apart on the soft sheets, Ichigo balances himself above Urahara’s cock, and starts to tease his entrance with the tip. “Important things are good.” He lifts himself up, and sinks himself down onto Urahara’s cock with a low moan.

“Yes, they truly are~.”

Ichigo closes his eyes, and releases a low moan, getting taken away by Urahara once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - "What’s wrong, are your nipples a little sore? Too bad, I’m going to keep playing with them."

* * *

Heart pounding in his throat, Ichigo looks up and down the hallway. It’s such a familiar habit, knowing that what’s on the other side of the door he’s standing in front of is his salvation. The number ‘15’ is rusted, flecks of copper paint peeling off the insides of the numbers. He’s tempted to turn around, and head back to his car, but his feet won’t move. No, they’re planted to the floor, making it extremely difficult to do much of anything, let alone trying to escape the burning need he’s got raging through his body. With quiet resolve, he lifts his hand, and knocks it against the door.

“Oh. It’s you.” The man that had picked him up from the restaurant the other night is standing at the door. “Come inside. The boss is indisposed at the moment.”

_Indisposed_? He enters the apartment, trying not to fidget too much, as he did not expect anyone else to be here. A loud moan comes from behind the closed door, Ichigo’s head snapping towards the noise, as his stomach seems to drop from his body. _Female_ …? What the fuck is going on with this man? Rather than ask the man that seems oblivious to the noise, or maybe he’s just so used to it it doesn’t register, he goes over and takes a seat in an oversized sofa chair, trying not to let the noises in the other room bother him as much as they are.

He knows that there has never been a promise of exclusivity. How things had naturally been progressing from their ‘quick fuck’ to ‘I own four houses’, Ichigo had sort of figured the two of them were a bit more than just fuck buddies. That term really can’t be used either, as much as Ichigo wishes it were the case. It used to be like that - before he found himself becoming dependent on the person that seems to require absolutely no dependence on him at all. That hurts worse than listening to the woman moan.

“Here’s some tea, Kurosaki.” The man brings him a mug that’s steaming.

“I don’t remember your name.” He takes the mug, and takes a careful sip of the warm beverage.

Light reflects off the man’s glasses, as he adjusts them with one hand. “Tessai.” He bows his head, then heads back into the kitchen.

The door to the bedroom opens, Urahara walking out of it with his green tunic slightly askew, a cigarette perched between his lips. “Ah, good. You’ve made some tea. Excellent.”

Ichigo stares at him, wondering when he’ll turn and acknowledge his presence. He doesn’t make a sound, and sees that Tessai isn’t forthcoming with announcing that he’s there as well. Taking another sip of his tea, he wonders just what he’ll see walk through the door. Probably some disgusting woman that will be covered in bites and marks, just like how his body looks after he leaves Urahara’s care. He squeezes his mug a little tighter in his hand, willing his anger to not manifest on his face.

A well endowed woman with hair the shade of an eggplant walks out behind him, slapping his ass as she passes by him. “Thanks so much for that, Kisuke. We both know I needed that.”

“Yes, yes, Yoruichi-san.” He takes a drag from his smoke, a shit-eating grin on his face, making Ichigo’s stomach roll with his anger? Jealousy? He’s not at all sure just what he’s feeling right now at seeing how these two interact with one another, but it doesn’t feel like sunshine and rainbows, that’s for sure.

She walks over to where Tessai is standing, and pats his shoulder. “Are you ready to go? We’ve got another appointment to get to.”

What the hell? She uses this man too? Ichigo can feel the anger slowly draining away, being replaced by confusion. He sees Urahara give them both a wave, as Tessai escorts this Yoruichi-san out of the apartment.

“To what do I owe this unexpected visit, Kurosaki-san?” Smoke blows upwards, Urahara’s back still towards him.

His mouth drops open. “You knew I was here?” 

“I saw you the moment I walked out of my bedroom.” The older man turns around, a playful smirk on his lips. “Does that surprise you?”

“What’s surprises me are the noises that woman was making behind closed doors.” Ichigo hates that he’s so quick to tell the truth, but he can’t help it. He rests the mug he’s holding on the arm of chair, that sick feeling to his stomach returning.

More smoke is inhaled, then exhaled, the apartment filling with the aroma of the man’s cigarette. Urahara leans against the armrest of his couch, just a few steps away from where Ichigo is sitting. “If you’re worried that she and I just had relations, I can assure you that that is _not_  the case, Ichigo.”

“How the hell do I know you’re telling the truth?” The words come out as an almost hiss, Urahara’s ability to make him crazy shining through perfectly.

A low chuckle leaves the man’s throat, as he stubs out his cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table. “There’s one sure way to tell if I’ve been lying with her.”

He doesn’t have to be told what Urahara is implying, Ichigo going over to where the man is still leaning against the arm of the sofa, his hands going to the loose tie that sits around Urahara’s waist. He gives it a quick tug, the green tunic that’s barely staying on the man’s shoulder now open, exposing his clean chest to Ichigo. Knowing that this man has an affinity for marking in the most obscure places, as he should know, Ichigo goes for the tie on Urahara’s pants, and gives that its own rough tug. He hears the man release a low grunt, but doesn’t stop Ichigo from what he’s doing.

Ichigo himself doesn’t know what he’s doing, as his tongue is now licking at one of Urahara’s nipples, the man’s hand coming to rest on the back of his head, holding his head in place. He groans low, licking the nub into hardness, as he tries to pull the man’s pants down, but becomes too focused on just how Urahara is responding to his touches. The soft groans that keep leaving his lover’s throat urge him to bite down on the raised nub. Urahara’s legs are now spread far apart, one foot resting on top of the couch, the other hanging off the side, toes barely touching the floor. Ichigo finds himself straddle the couch in a similar fashion, as his teeth bite down harder onto his lover’s nipple.

“I-Ichigo…” Urahara’s nails dig into his scalp, making Ichigo release his low moan. He tugs on the man’s nipple, eyes on Urahara’s face, wanting to see what it looks like as he takes the reins for just this moment. It seems his teacher is more than happy to allow him, the student, to put into use what he’s been taught since answering that Craigslist ad.

Releasing the nipple with one quick tug, he moves to the other one, treating it in the same manner as the first. His hand goes down to Urahara’s cock, which he can feel throb against his palm, as he gives it a rough knead with the heel of his hand. The moans from Urahara’s throat become louder, as he bites down hard on this nipple, Ichigo rutting against the arm of the couch, seeking a little relief on his own cock. After a few harsh bites, he starts to kiss his way back towards the other nipple, but Urahara’s hand prevents him from getting there, as he lifts his head up to be closer to his.

“What’s the matter…?” Ichigo breathes against his mouth, the tip of his tongue licking the middle of Urahara’s upper lip. “Are your nipples a little sore…?” He bites down on Urahara’s lower lip, giving it a firm tug, before releasing it. He whispers into his ear, his heart pounding a mile a minute inside of his own ears. “Too bad…” His fingers touch Urahara’s left nipple, and gives it a firm twist, the low moan that leaves his lover’s throat sending a shiver up Ichigo’s spine. “I’m going to keep playing with them.”

His mouth latches back on to Urahara’s chest, the man pulling him down towards the couch. His knees now on the plush cushion, hands tangling in his hair as he bites down rougher onto his nipple, the scorching heat from Urahara’s cock radiating onto his own groin. After a few more rough tugs on Urahara’s nipples, he starts to kiss his way downwards, lips brushing over pale blonde hairs that steadily become darker the closer he gets to his cock. Standing up against the side of the couch, he reaches down and pulls Urahara’s pants off quick, then takes care of his own jeans and underwear, leaving his black cotton shirt on.

“You swear you weren’t with that woman?” Ichigo asks, resettling between the man’s legs.

The playful smirk returns to his lover’s lips. “Why don’t you find out, Kurosaki?”

Preparing himself for the worst, he lowers his head, and rubs his nose along the man’s cock. The rigid skin tickles his nose, but doesn’t make him squirm or sneeze. He inhales deeply, only smelling the man’s natural musk, which causes him to salivate. He starts to lick Urahara’s cock, the musk transferring into his mouth, as he pulls the tip to rest against his lips. No, he had not been with that woman, even if the noises she had been making sure made it seem like that had been the case. He lowers his mouth down to the base of his cock, and gives it a good suck, Urahara’s hips lifting up off the bed to push himself further down his throat.

Not wanting the man to come just yet, he keeps his suctions to be just barely teasing, as his hands slide up Urahara’s ribcage, only coming to a stop when he feels his nipples. Using both hands, he clamps his thumb and forefinger around each nipple, and gives the nubs a rough squeeze, as his mouth slides down to deepthroat his lover’s cock.

The loud moan that tears from Urahara’s mouth has the tip of his cock leaking onto the couch. He wants to hear him make louder moans, wants to hear his lover make him lose his shit, just like he always does to Ichigo. He wants this man to realize that he needs no one else but _him_ , never wanting him to entertain the idea that Ichigo is no longer needed. No, he wants to show him he can give it as much as he can get it, and by Urahara’s reactions, that seems to be the case.

He feels his cock begin to throb against his tongue, Ichigo pulling his mouth off of his cock with a smirk on his face. Urahara tries to push his head back down, but Ichigo shakes his head. “No. I want you to fuck me, Kisuke.”

His back slams against the couch, as Urahara is quick to switch positions with him. “Did you come here prepared…?”

“Stick your cock in me and find out.” He pushes his hips down, finding the tip of Urahara’s cock with relative ease.

The bulbous head pushes into him slow, his body quickly welcoming it. “Mmmm…. Such a good boy you are…”

Ichigo lifts his leg, hooking his foot around Urahara’s hip, as he pushes downwards, a loud moan leaving his mouth, as Urahara’s cock sinks deeper into him. “Y-Yes!”

Urahara holds himself up by placing his hands on the armrest of the couch, allowing Ichigo to return to what he’d been doing before, his lips going to the reddened nipple presented to him. His lover lets out a pleased moan, as the tip of his cock slams deep into Ichigo, causing him to moan in unison with him. He bites down rougher, as Urahara begins to slam harder into his body, tit for tat. It feels _amazing_ , and Ichigo doesn’t want it to end, but his body seems to have other ideas. After one hard thrust, he’s coming, his head falling back onto the small cushion, as white bleeds behind his closed eyes. He hears Urahara groan, and then soon feels the rush of his release deep within him, making Ichigo release another loud moan.

Emptiness fills him, as Urahara pulls out of him, but it disappears as he finds himself on his knees, his hands resting on the armrest of the sofa, Urahara’s cock pushing back into him. He moans loud, his hands locking with Urahara’s, as his lover thrusts hard and deep into him. The noises they make fill his ears, driving his desire to please this man higher than it has been before. Maybe it’s because he’s finally found something that can make the man scream in the same fashion that Urahara can make him come undone. Or, maybe it’s because they’ve finally found a rhythm to each other, that seems to be mutually beneficial to the two of them.

A hand touches his cock, Urahara stroking him gently, the complete opposite of how he’s slamming hard into his body. It’s too much for him, and soon Ichigo’s coming again, Urahara milking his cock with his fist, a choked out moan leaving Ichigo’s throat. Once he’s finished, Urahara puts his hand to his face, Ichigo licking up all of his release off of his hand, as Urahara begins to pump his cock deeper into his body. Once it’s all gone, he turns his head, and kisses his lover hard, transferring what’s left on his tongue into his mouth. Urahara comes only seconds later, his release sending another jolt through Ichigo’s body, as their lips remained locked, guttural moans traveling from Urahara’s throat to his own, as they ride out his orgasm together.

He drapes himself over the edge of the couch, panting hard, as Urahara pulls himself off of him. A few tissues are handed to him, which he uses on his backside, hoping nothing has leaked out onto the man’s couch. Not that it really matters, because he’s sure the man has done other perverse things on this couch. A hand touches his elbow, Urahara helping him to stand up. He guides him to his bedroom, where Ichigo sees a large masseuse table set up.

“Now do you see, Ichigo?” Urahara teases him, as the two make their way over to the bed. “I was giving her a massage.”

Shaking his head, he lays next to his lover, resting his head on his chest. “Just who the hell are you, Kisuke? Owning four places, having a driver? And now, a masseuse?”

“Ah, but isn’t the mystery part of the fun, Kurosaki?” His lover starts to run his fingers through his hair. “Do you really want to discuss the humdrum aspects of our lives? Isn’t what we have already satisfying enough?”

Lifting his head, he rests his chin against Urahara’s sternum. “I wouldn’t say no, if you wanted this to be more than just a booty call.”

“Careful what you say, Kurosaki.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lover’s face. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.”

“You know I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” Ichigo returns his head back to Urahara’s chest. “But fine. Booty calls it remains.”

The hand that’s in his hair seems to hesitate a little, then resumes what it had been doing before. “Yes, I think that would be best for the both of us.”

“Me too.” It tastes like a horrible lie, but if it means he’ll get to keep seeing this man in this fashion, he’ll endure it for awhile. Soon, he’ll bring it up again, and force Urahara to admit what he’s already admitted to himself.

Ichigo is falling in love with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - “You’re not allowed to wear underwear tomorrow when you go out.”

* * *

Ichigo drops his keys down into the small bowl that sits on top of the table in his foyer. He pulls his wallet out, drops it down next to his keys, and proceeds to take his shoes off. It had been a very long day at the office, and he’s looking forward to sitting down on his couch and vegging out for a bit. Pulling his tie off, he walks into his kitchen, and pulls the door open, grabbing a beer from the top shelf. He uses a bottle opener to take the cap off, and rests against the counter, as he takes a long sip. The crisp, refreshing taste of hops dances on his tastebuds, as he swallows the beverage down. Feeling a little bit more relaxed, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and checks to see if there are any new messages. There’s not. _Damn_. Still no text from Urahara.

Flopping down on his couch, he turns the television on, and sits back. It’s been far too long since he’s just allowed himself to wind down like this. He’d rather be somewhere else right now, with someone else, but he knows that they’re out of town, no doubt taking care of another business venture he has no idea about. But it doesn’t matter, because he and Urahara had decided that their arrangement was good enough as is. So, the less he knows, the better. All he knows is that he’s out of town, which is driving him a little bit insane, as he’s jonesing to be with him.

The man had given him specific instructions before he’d left on his trip, which are proving to be rather difficult to adhere to. Urahara has forbidden him from touching himself while he’s out of town. And the longer the man’s out of town, the hornier Ichigo seems to get. But, he obeys the older man’s instructions, and resists every urge he has to give himself some stimulation. And after a week of nothing, he’s becoming more anxious to get rid of the perpetual semi-hardness his cock seems to be staying in. He finishes his beer, gets up and grabs another one, and plops back down on the couch.

Four beers later, he drags himself to his bedroom, where he falls face first onto the bed, happily drunk. He starts to get comfortable under his blanket when his phone begins to ring. Michael Jackson’s ‘Leave Me Alone’ comes blaring through the ringer, Ichigo slightly irritated by the late night phone call from his best friend. “What is it, Abarai?” He doesn’t bother to greet him. “Why are you calling me so late?”

“You drunk, Kurosaki?” Renji asks, his voice sounding as slurred as his own. “I was calling to remind you that we’ve got dinner plans tomorrow with the gang.”

“Shit.” He groans, rolling over to lay on his side. “I totally forgot.”

“Yeah, that’s why I called to remind you. Loser.” Renji laughs, Ichigo pulling the phone away from his ear at the abrasive sound. “We’re meeting downtown at six. You’re not going to flake, are you?”

“No, I’ll be there.” The last time he’d tried to meet up for dinner with his friends, he’d left after getting way turned on by a text that Urahara had sent to him. And with the man out of town, he knows there’s a fat chance of that happening again, as their communication had been zero since Urahara had given him his instructions. “You said six?”

“I did. See you tomorrow night.” Renji ends the call, leaving Ichigo slightly annoyed. He preferred having the last word, but there was no point to it now, as the call had already been disconnected.

He sets his phone on the nightstand next to his bed, then turns the lamp off, dropping his bedroom into completely darkness. He sighs, and turns to lay on his back. As he starts to drift to sleep, his phone begins to ring again, the chorus to Blink 182’s ‘Feeling This’ comes through the speaker, causing his heart to palpitate. All tiredness seems to vanish, as he grabs his phone and quickly slides his finger to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Ah, you’re awake.” Urahara’s voice fills his ear, making his heart continue its erratic beating. “I thought you would be asleep, Kurosaki-san.”

“I was just getting ready to go to bed.” Just hearing the man’s voice is causing his head to spin. “It’s really good to hear your voice.”

“Are you drunk?” He can hear teasing in the man’s voice, making his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Maybe just a little.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself while I’m away.” Urahara chuckles softly, Ichigo wishing to hear it person, rather than just through the receiver in his phone. “Speaking of, I’ll be returning late tomorrow night. I’ll text you instructions in the morning.”

“Tell me now?” Ichigo asks, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

A soft hum comes through the receiver. “If I tell you now, and you don’t remember in the morning, I might have to punish you when I see you.”

“Tell me.” The blood that’s been staining his cheeks quickly rushes to his groin. “Please, Kisuke?” Even if he does forget, the promise of punishment sounds far too delectable to ignore.

Expecting instructions similar to what he’d been told before Urahara had gone out of town, he waits with bated breath for these new ones. “You’re not allowed to wear underwear tomorrow when you go out.”

“I won’t.” Ichigo bites his lip, as he thinks about what this will mean.

“I want updates throughout the day.” Urahara’s low voice causes his hair on his arms to raise up. “One when you get to work, one mid-morning, one at lunch, one mid-afternoon, one at dinner.”

Ichigo bites his lip harder, before whispering, “I’m going out with friends for dinner.”

“Do I need to repeat myself, Kurosaki-san?”

The tone sends another chill down Ichigo’s spine. “I’ll text you tomorrow, Urahara-san.”

“Good night.” Their phone call ends.

He schedules the five alarms for the following day, spreading them out just as Urahara had told him to. Setting his phone back down on his nightstand, Ichigo’s hand itches to touch his throbbing erection, which had become more and more pronounced as the phone call had continued. Thinking about what he’s going to have to do tomorrow makes his balls ache. At least Urahara will be home in the evening, and he’ll be able to take care of his horniess. He just needs to get through a very, _very_  long day at work, and then dinner with his friends.

***

After clocking in for work, Ichigo heads to the bathroom, his phone tucked into his pocket. He heads to the furthest stall from the door, and quickly locks the door. His slacks have been clinging to parts of his body that they normally wouldn’t, thanks to the lack of underwear. He makes sure the sound is off on his phone, and snaps two pictures - one of the front of his pants, the second a shot angling down as he pulls his waistband outward, clearly showing his lack of boxers. His cheeks burn, as he puts the two pictures together into one, and then sends it to Urahara.

“ _Perfect. I look forward to my next photo set_.” The man immediately texts back, making Ichigo’s heart beat rapidly. He knows there’s no reason to reply, the man no doubt already busy doing whatever it is he’s been doing on his trip. Breathing a little easier, now that the first round of photos are done, he flushes the toilet, and heads to the sink to wash his hands. He keeps his hands in front of his groin, knowing that there is no other way to hide his arousal. When he gets to his desk, he gets to work, ignoring the burning need that just doesn’t seem to be going away.

His next alarm goes off a couple of hours later, as he’s in the middle of a phone conference with their satellite office in Italy. There is no way he can end the call, nor is there a way for him to just set the phone down to take a quick toilet break. Time keeps ticking, making him aware that the longer he waits, the more likely Urahara will be sending him a reminder text, which he knows cannot happen. Taking a huge risk, he starts to have a coughing fit, allowing him to unzip his pants just enough so that he can snap a photo of himself. He does exactly that, and has one extra coughing fit to cover up the sound of pulling his zipper back up.

He sends the photo, setting his phone back onto his desk, as he starts to add his thoughts to the ongoing conversation. A picture message comes through to his phone five minutes later. He’s quick to pull the text up, and almost drops his phone on the desk when he sees just what Urahara has sent to him.

It’s almost the same exact shot he’s just taken of himself. “ _You’re not the only one that isn’t wearing any underwear today, Kurosaki_.” He almost moans into the phone, but stops himself before making a sound, caught completely off guard by Urahara’s statement. His concentration on work is lost, as he stops being an active participant in the conversation, and instead tunes them out. He wants to text Urahara again, wants the man to know just how aroused he is by all of this, and wants to ask if he can finally give himself some relief. Instead, he pulls up the picture that he’d just received, and stares at it for the remainder of the conversation.

At lunch, he ducks back into the bathroom, and rather than take just another picture down his pants, he pulls his cock out, making a fist around it. He snaps the picture, then sends it to Urahara, who responds within ten seconds of him sending it. “ _If you’ve obeyed your other instructions for this week, you will be very happy this evening_.”

“ _I haven’t jerked off at all_.” Ichigo types back.

“ _I will know if you’re lying_.”

“ _I’m not. You’ll see tonight. I’m counting the hours until I can see you_.”

“ _So am I, Ichigo._ ”

He leans against the stall of the bathroom, groaning softly, as he hears the man’s voice inside of his head. It takes him a few minutes to calm down, before he can head back out. Adjusting himself, he sees there’s a small wet spot right where the tip of his cock has been touching most of the morning. _Fuck_. There’s nothing he can do about it now. He washes his hands, and heads back to his work station, wondering if he’ll actually make it through all of these alarms.

Rather than wait for the alarm to go off mid-afternoon, he heads to the copy room, and takes his next set of pictures. He takes a picture of the wet spot on his pant leg, then pulls out his cock, rubbing the tip of his finger against the sensitive head. Strings of pre-cum cling to his fingertip, as he pulls it away. When it’s about to break, he snaps a picture, then sends it to Urahara, who replies back fast. “ _So wet._ ” Three droplets of water emoji follow the statement. Ichigo tucks himself back into his pants, then licks the evidence away from his fingertip, and leaves the copy room, passing by one of his coworkers in the process.

Dinner proves to be the most difficult alarm to take care of, for two reasons. The first - he’s having a ton of fun with his friends, laughing and eating far more than he normally does, as his appetite seems to be returning. The second - it’s getting to be close to the time when he knows he’ll be seeing Urahara, and he almost wants to will time to move faster, so he can be back at Apartment 15. His phone vibrates in his pocket, alerting him of the alarm he’s set up, the phone somehow managing to be close to his arousal, thanks to the way he’s chosen to sit in the booth he’s sharing with his friends.

It keeps vibrating, making it almost impossible for him to do anything except allow it to keep vibrating against his cock. But he knows if he doesn’t get up and go to the bathroom, it will be far worse. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls his phone out, and turns off the alarm. “B-Be right back.” He slides out of the booth, having chosen to sit on the end, and quickly heads to the bathroom.

One last photo. He angles the phone to show his face, along with his cock, which is hanging out of his pants. He sends it to Urahara, and waits for a reply. When one doesn’t come after five minutes, he heads back into the restaurant, and hopes that he doesn’t receive another text until they’re finished with their meal. And, as luck would have it, his phone starts to vibrate as he walks to the train station, after saying goodbye to his friends. He pulls it out, and feels his arousal begin to grow into complete hardness, as he stares at the two sentences. “ _I’m home. Come to the apartment_.”

Hailing a cab, he hops into the back, and gives the man Urahara’s apartment address. It takes a total of fifteen minutes for them to travel across town to get to his place; fourteen minutes longer than he wishes. He quickly pays the cab driver, and then walks into the apartment building, and heads to the man’s apartment. Standing in front of the door with the number ‘15’ on it, Ichigo taps his knuckles against it with a quick knock.

The door opens, Urahara dressed in a business suit, the stumble on his face looking far more pronounced. Pale blonde hair lays flat on his head, the usual thickness gone thanks to the recycled air of the airplane. He couldn’t look any hotter if he tried. Ichigo moves towards him, pushing the door closed on his own, as he moves to be close to Urahara. It clicks into place, but Ichigo doesn’t notice, as he’s already throwing himself into Urahara’s embrace, the two kissing each other like lovers should - and not two men that just rely on each other for a booty call.

Urahara thrusts his tongue into his mouth, controlling the kiss, Ichigo submitting himself to letting him take the lead. After a week of not having this, it feels _perfect_ , to be able to feel the man’s tongue touch his own. As they kiss each other, they stumble through the apartment, Urahara navigating the two of them into his bedroom. Ichigo groans, as he’s pushed backwards onto the bed, their kiss breaking apart, as Urahara’s hands start to pull on his leather belt.

“Let’s see if you still have no underwear on, hmm?” Urahara’s voice sounds so good in person. “Are you still wearing no underwear, Ichigo?”

“Pull them off and find out.” He bites his lip, afraid that he may have gone too far. He sees a pleased look cross Urahara’s face, as he unzips Ichigo’s slacks to reveal that yes, he still has no underwear on.

“And you’ve been a good boy, yes?” Urahara asks, pulling Ichigo’s pants all the way off. “You’ve done as I’ve told you?”

“Yes.” Ichigo nods his head, as he kicks off his shoes, and pulls his own socks off. “I haven’t had an orgasm since I last saw you.”

The pleased look returns to his lover’s face. “Very good.”

“And you?” He’s not sure if he wants to know the answer, but asks anyway. He reaches for Urahara’s belt, and makes quick work of it, allowing him to unzip the man’s pants. He sees that Urahara is in the same state as he is, still with no underwear on. He moans low, his hand reaching down to feel the man’s thickness against his palm. “I’ve missed this so much.”

“Only my cock, Kurosaki-san~?” Urahara pushes his hips forward, his cock sliding against Ichigo’s fist. The reddened tip pokes out from his closed fist, making him moan low at the sight.

“All of you.” Ichigo grips onto his cock tighter, as he starts to move his fist up and down. “I ache, Urahara-san.”

“Where do you ache?” Their lips come together, as Urahara’s pants slip off of his body. He crawls on top of Ichigo, straddling his thighs. The thickness of his cock rubs against Ichigo’s, making both men moan low at the first physical contact. “Is it right here?” Urahara rolls his hips, grinding himself against Ichigo’s arousal.

He nods, a low moan leaving his throat as he rolls his hips with Urahara. “I was good all week. May I get my reward?”

“You may~.” Urahara pulls away from him, and moves up Ichigo’s body. His knees flank the sides of his head, as Urahara places his hands on the top of his headboard. “Open wide, Ichigo….”

His mouth drops open, as the tip of Urahara’s cock pushes against his bottom lip. His tongue darts out, tasting the saltiness of Urahara’s perspiration, mixed with the taste of his spunk, as he pulls the man’s cock into his mouth. _This_  is what he’s been craving to taste for the past week. This man’s cock rules his life - governing him in ways he never thought he would be. He sucks hard on Urahara’s cock, wanting to show him just how much he appreciates this perfect reward for not masturbating all week.

Urahara pulls his cock away from his mouth, turning around so that his head is now down by Ichigo’s cock. He almost screams, as Urahara pulls his cock into his mouth, but stops when Urahara shoves his dick back into his own mouth. Ichigo moans low around the thick appendage, sucking hard on it, as he feels Urahara suck hard on his cock.

They work as a team, mimicking each other’s mouths, as they sixty-nine. Each rough suck is followed by a gentle lick, Ichigo trying to deepthroat Urahara at every chance he gets. It doesn’t take long for him to come, the build up of the last week flowing down Urahara’s throat, the man moaning low after each swallow. The tangy taste of Urahara’s release begins to drip more rapidly on his tongue, and then, he feels the man reach his orgasm, the flood of his release now shooting down the back of his throat, as he swallows every last drop. Urahara licks him a few more times, his cock responding to the stimulation, just as it’s been trained to do, blood filling his cock into hardness a second time.

Fingers prep him with just a few thrusts, and then, he’s laying on his side, Urahara’s chest to his back, as the man slips into him with ease. He moans loud, his head leaning back against Urahara’s shoulder, as his cock penetrates him in a way his fingers could not. The man rubs his stubbled cheek against his, the feel of his facial hair causes him to release a wanton moan. He pushes his hips back, wanting to feel more of the man’s cock deep inside of him, which Urahara is more than pleased to give to him.

“I’ve missed you, Ichigo….” Urahara whispers into his ear, as he drives his cock deeper into his body. “Far more than I thought I would.”

“I-Is that good…?” Ichigo can’t stop moaning, as his lover has put his hand on his cock, stroking him opposite to the thrusts of his hips. “O-Or bad….?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Urahara groans low into his ear. “But it feels good to be like this with you again.”

“K-Kisuke…” He turns his head to the side, and captures the man’s lips with his own, kissing him hard.

The struggle to find the perfect position has them breaking off their kiss, Ichigo arching his chest up, as Urahara’s chest pushes against his back. His body seizes, as his orgasm tears through his body, the neediness from the past week disappearing, as he gets exactly what he wants. He feels Urahara thrust deep into him a few more times, and then, the fullness returns, as Urahara’s release coats his inner walls.

Urahara pulls out of him a few moments later, then is quick to clean the both of them off. Ichigo turns around to face him, resting his head on the pillow, rather than on Urahara’s shoulder. “Kisuke? Have you really missed me?”

“I have.” His lover nods. “This week, I was miserable.”

“Because we couldn’t see each other?” He asks, hoping that it’s the truth.

“Exactly.”

“I was miserable too, Kisuke.” Ichigo feels better, admitting these feelings that have been plaguing him over the last week. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Their lips come together for a soft kiss. “Let’s not talk anymore, hmm? Let’s get back to what we both want tonight.”

Ichigo submits himself to the wiles of Urahara for the remainder of the night, making up for the last seven days they’ve spent apart.

***

“Will I see you again soon?” Ichigo asks, putting his clothes back on the following morning. “You’re not going on another trip, are you?”

A lit cigarette hangs off of Urahara’s bottom lip. “Soon, Kurosaki-san~.” Urahara takes a drag from his smoke, and blows the grey smoke upwards. “Thank you for last night.”

“No, thank _you_.” Ichigo pulls the smoke away from his mouth, and kisses him. “I’ll see you soon, Kisuke.”

“Goodbye, Ichigo.”  

He heads out of the apartment, and makes his way downstairs. If he’s learned anything from this past week apart, it’s becoming more and more apparent to him that his feelings are starting to get in the way of this arrangement. He wants more from this man, but doesn’t know how to go about asking for it, given the last time he’d brought it up. But, after their long, torturous week apart, he thinks it might be a little easier to approach the topic. He tucks it away into his brain, hoping he’ll remember the next time he sees the man. But, knowing how their affair has worked so far, he’s almost positive he’ll forget, in favor of just enjoying their passionate rendezvous. Soon he’ll ask.

Soon.


End file.
